Kiss
by She's So High
Summary: (HrRH) Hermione is tired of being known as a prude, but when she tries to change that she only gives everyone more to talk about, and makes her little white lie all she can think about.


Kiss

By: Lady DeathAngel

Warnings: language and a makeout scene that involves two guys kissing. 

A/N: This is my first H/R/Hr fic ever written. It's one of my favorite ships and it was only a matter of time before I contributed to the fic cause. Anyway, please read, enjoy and review. 

The nature of our relationship had always been . . . different. No one understood it. They tried, don't get me wrong. They were completely supportive of our friendship, doing their best not to separate us. But did they truly understand it? Definitely not. You could see it in their eyes, hidden behind the almost acquiescent smiles. A confusion and in the bolder people, a probing look that tried to figure out just what we were about. It always amused me in a way. How could they expect to figure out what the three of us could not?

The jokes started rather late, when you really stop to consider it. Harry, Hermione and I were practically siamese triplets, we were together so much. Most people assumed Hermione and I would end up together because we were so obviously attracted to each other. A fact that always presented itself through explosive rows that would then send Harry into an angry stint of yelling. But when, by sixth year, we hadn't, people began to speculate.

Most specifically one Draco Malfoy.

To be honest I'd never considered it before that pasty-faced git brought it up. But all of a sudden he and his ugly girlfriend and their equally ugly friends would say rather rude things to our faces. It started with inquiring as to who got Hermione on weeknights and who got her on weekends. 

"I'm sure the Mudblood and the Weasel put the prefect's bathroom to really good use." Malfoy had leered one day. "Do you ever get jealous, Potter?"

"Oh honestly!" Hermione had exclaimed. 

I'd shared a look with Harry. She was using the tone that said all to clearly that Malfoy was getting annoying. And an annoyed Hermione was never pleasant. 

"Who's to say they can't both have me anytime they want? At the same time, if they want?"

Pansy Parkinson snorted through her pug nose.

"Please. You're too much a prude to be able to handle one man in your bed, let alone two."

And that's when I saw it. The affronted look in her brown eyes that meant she was going to start acting stupid. Harry saw it too and sighed loudly.

"Hermione . . ." he started.

"Listen you," she interrupted, completely ignorant to the fact that she was most likely digging an early grave for her reputation right then and there. "I can handle two men in my bed better than you ever could. Not that that cowardly ferret would ever have the spine to try it."

There was a stunned silence in which I slapped a palm to my forehead and Harry just shook his head while the Slytherin's stared at Hermione in shock. 

"You little bitch." Pansy breathed in a mixture of awe, anger and shock.

To which Harry and I both took threatening steps forward. Crabbe and Goyle had long since given up trying to intimidate us, and besides, they were busy trying to get what was going on through their peon minds. So it was just Pansy and Malfoy, who was still staring at Hermione, to defend themselves against us. I honestly thought we might win it. But Hermione, who had started the whole thing in the first place, decided to step in. 

Grabbing me around the waist and taking Harry's hand in hers, lacing their fingers together, she pulled us away. Her pert little nose in the air, her ridiculously bushy hair bouncing behind her as we beat a retreat. I knew things were going to change in that moment, and so did Harry. So did Hermione for that matter. But no matter how much the two of us chastised her she was convinced it was better than the alternative.

"And what would that be, exactly?" I asked, exasperated.

"Well, I can't have them thinking I'm a complete puritan the rest of my life can I? And besides, they were getting to be a nuisance with all that talk of how you two split your time with me . . ." She trailed off with a glower. "It's better this way." 

And in the long run, maybe it was. But we never did hear the end of it.

~*~

"Why, if it isn't our own, resident inveterate menage a trois!" Draco Malfoy shouted when Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

Ron glanced around, making sure all teachers were out of earshot before hissing back, "Get fucked."

Malfoy smirked.

"At least I won't be taking it up the arse."

"It's better than settling for a dog-faced idiot though, wouldn't you say?" Harry retorted.

The comment served two purposes. It shut Malfoy up because there was no way he'd ever defend Pansy Parkinson, no matter how long they'd been 'going out'. And two, it angered Pansy to the point of incoherent mumbling and she yanked out her wand, only to have Professor Snape sweep down upon them in a flurry of black-cloaks and evil aura.

"What exactly is going on down here?" He inquired.

"Nothing Professor." Malfoy said, shooting Pansy a warning look. "A bit of friendly banter just got a bit out of hand is all."

It was such an obvious lie that Hermione goggled when Snape only looked at them in suspicion and muttered, "I'm sure." before sweeping away again.

They all shared glares as soon as he was gone, but no more was said. Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor table and settled in. 

"I swear I never thought this joke of their's would last for three months."

"If you weren't so damn impulsive when you're angry we wouldn't be in this mess." Ron declared. 

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You have no room to talk."

"Okay guys, can we please not start now? It's bad enough that everyone thinks the three of us give new meaning to the word 'perverted' but do we need to make ourselves look like a squabbling three way couple too?"

"I still say it's all her fault." Ron muttered sourly.

"Shut up Ron." She shot back.

"Both of you shut up." Harry demanded.

And like always the two of them listened and the remainder of the meal passed over in peace. It was only the beginning, though. They just didn't know it.

~*~

You'd think that in the middle of a war my relationship with Ron and Hermione would be the last thing on anyone's mind. But no, it wasn't. Malfoy took every pleasure in bringing up what she'd said at every turn, and now the whole of Hogwart's was talking about it. Which was just bloody perfect, considering. I mean, I was never going to be even *remotely* normal, was I? First a headcase, now a pervert. It was only a matter of time before Malfoy sold my story to papers and the whole wizarding world decided to rain down upon me in a torrent of anger and ignorance.

Personally, it was something I could do without. I had the stress of the inevitable murder of the most feared wizard of our time over my head. I still had yet to get over my godfather's death and no matter how normal I tried to act during the day, Ron still woke me up nearly every night from nightmares that had me thrashing and moaning and hissing or sobbing. What I did not need was people sending me howlers because I supposedly shared a bed with my two best friends and, guess what, one of them happens to be a guy.

Quidditch helped take mine and Ron's mind off of things. He was my co-captain now and we had responsibilities. But wouldn't you know we couldn't even fully escape it there. Between Colin Creevy, his blasted pictures and Ginny and her blunt nature (not to mention the joy she took in teasing us) at least once a week she'd say in passing, and rather loudly I might add, that Hermione still hadn't decided which of us could get her off fastest, but when she did tell her she'd get back to us. Colin Creevy had a field day and his girlfriend (don't ask how they ever ended up together but they did) was as smug as a girl can be when her brother's just stolen a beater bat and sent a bludger screaming in her direction.

As for Hermione she couldn't go anywhere without a bunch of girls hounding her about it. I was within hearing distance one of the times and I was rather shocked.

"Come on Hermione, you can tell us! Which one's better?"

"Yeah! I mean, Ron's got to have a nice build but Harry's hands are . . ." the girl sighed. "I mean, his fingers are so *long*." 

"It's my business, not yours." Hermione said haughtily. "But between you and me, it's hard to tell who's best when you've got the two of them working on you at once. You're not all there, if you know what I mean."

I was shocked, personally. She was still going along with this? So much so that she was making up fantasies about Ron and her and I . . . And were my fingers really that long? 

The entire situation was rather frustrating to be honest. I mean, at first it was annoying. And then it became annoying because it was all I could think about. What would it be like, I wondered? I'd always had a bit of a crush on Hermione. She was just so confident and intelligent and loving all at once. And then there was Ron, who was another guy which, compared to my other issues, didn't seem so daunting. We fought a lot, but we always made up and were best friends again. But was there something more to it? Did that even make any sense or was I just making it all up in response to what everyone else thought?

Whatever it was, I never thought it would culminate in anything. Leave it up to my two best friends to surprise me.

~*~

"Have you ever thought about it?" Hermione asked one night as they all lay on the common room floor. Ron was sprawled out with his back against the couch and Hermione resting against his chest. Harry had his back against his shoulder and could feel her running her slim fingers through his black hair.

"Thought about what?" Ron asked drowsily.

"What they all . . . that is . . . er, us."

Harry frowned.

"What're you talking about?"

"We're really good friends, right?" She said after a silence.

"Of course." Harry said.

"Yeah." Was Ron's answer.

"Well, we love each other then?"

" . . . yeah . . ." Ron said slowly.

Harry just nodded.

"Um . . . well, what if we were . . . that is . . . if we were in love with each other? I mean, if I was in love with the both of you, and you were in love with me and . . ."

"Each other?" Harry finished.

"Yeah."

Ron and Harry were silent and Hermione, who had flushed as red as her friend's hair shook her head quickly.

"Oh never mind. It was stupid and you probably think I'm really pervy and . . ."

But Harry had turned to face them, a questioning look on his face.

"No . . . no it's all right." He bit his lip. "I've wondered too."

Ron sighed.

"Yeah, me too. I thought it was a bloody stupid idea, to be honest. But I haven't been able to think about much else for weeks." He shook his head. "I don't know th . . ."

He never got a chance to finish his thought. Hermione had twisted in his arms and pressed her lips to his in what was, quite possibly, the most impulsive act of her life. But it felt wonderful. Ron's lips were warm beneath hers, and slack in shock at her boldness. She took advantage, tasting his lips with her tongue and then moving past them to sweep his mouth. He made a sound low in his throat and she pulled back with a gasp before turning to a dumbfounded Harry. His lips were softer than Ron's, but still felt of that masculinity that gave vent to all of the hard angles and base needs of a man. He didn't wait for her tongue. He pushed his past her lips, running it over hers and smiling a bit when she tried to take control again.

Somewhere in the back of all of their minds they recalled words from various people who said that true love is in a look, a touch, actions and words. But the whole of it, the passion and trueness of it, is in a kiss. Hermione had set out to answer the question that burned in each of their minds. But she could only answer half of it, she realized, leaning back and staring into Harry's beautiful green eyes. He was making up his mind, she could see.

He turned to Ron, who was staring at him. There was an almost awkward moment in which neither moved, and then they moved toward each other with an inexorable slowness that was filled with questions and begged for answers. And then their lips met and melded. It was so much different from kissing Hermione. It tasted different. Felt different. And yet it was eerily similar. Because while the physicality of it tasted of new things, while the tongues that played with each other had never been felt before, there was something in the kiss that was the same as that of the kiss they'd shared with her.

Love. 

~*~

It was when I first realized what a depraved person I am. Watching Harry and Ron kiss, their faces just inches from mine, my body stirred sensuously, sending tingles racing between my legs and making me so lightheaded my eyes almost rolled back. God they were beautiful. Their lips moved gently and every now and then I'd see their tongues as they danced. I had to bite my lip and even then I couldn't keep from moaning softly. They heard, and they didn't stop. I didn't want them to. I would have watched for hours because it was so arousing, but then Ron's arm slipped around my waist, his fingertips moving up and down my sides, the heat of his caress palpable even through the fabric of my robes and clothes. 

I sighed and then they broke apart. Ron's lips were closest. I kissed him first, tasted Harry on him even as I tasted him. Spicy, powerful, utterly Ron. Then I turned and kissed Harry who tasted sweet, mysterious, and the combination of flavors on my tongue was perfect. Us together was perfect. I trailed kisses down Harry's jaw, over his neck, stopped to suck on his Adam's apple. He tipped his head back and let me lave my tongue over the expanse of skin. 

I was fascinated by it. The salty taste of it. The way his moans vibrated against my lips and made me shiver. Ron had leaned forward as well and had one of his earlobes between his teeth, tugging gently and the licking the shell of it slowly. Harry was alternating between moaning and gasping. His pulse thudded against my tongue and I sucked at the area with just enough pressure to make him moan again, because I was falling in love with that sound. 

We kissed for what seemed like hours. Ron and Harry turned their attention to me and made me writhe beneath their bodies. Ron would kiss me while Harry dragged his teeth over my throat and then Harry would kiss me while Ron's hands squeezed my breasts through my robes. I hoped, vaguely, that we weren't making too much noise. I didn't want people to hear and come to investigate. But on the other hand what they were doing felt so good . . . and then Harry and I turned to Ron and his reactions were so different from ours. He didn't moan as loudly as Harry, although he squirmed a great deal more than me.

He'd whimper slightly, and then groan softly, and bite his lip if we weren't kissing him and make sounds deep in his throat. I was so completely and utterly aroused by them. They were, by far, the sexiest men alive. And they were mine. That thought alone was enough to make my kisses frenzied. I was so lucky to have them. To love them and be loved by them.

The three of us together was unexpected, to us most of all, but when it happened it was completely perfect.


End file.
